Wishes upon a Tree
by Shigan
Summary: Corsica, the place of their memories and tragedies. A mother battles her conscience to protect her daughter as a deadly child learns to play, adding a glint of hope to Bouquet's losing strife against Soldats. (pre-anime, WAFF, featuring them as children)


Honestly, when I watched Noir, one of the most stunning parts of the show was how all the Inner Trees pasts linked to each other through those fateful events on Corsica. What gave the further inspiration to this story was undoubtedly the assassination of the Bouquet family.

  Why did Kirika hesitate so long before shooting Odette Bouquet compared to Roland Bouquet and their unfortunate son? 

  Why did Odette Bouquet entrust her final wish about Mireille's safety on her murderer?

  And mostly, why did Odette's words affect young Kirika so much that it brought her to tears? (re-watch if you didn't notice, she stars crying in the last flashback in episode 26)

  As much as I believe that Kirika is a highly intelligent girl, I still doubt that a child her age could have understood the moralistic weight of the words "Love may be able to kill, but hate can never save". Thus, this story was born to propose a more sensible explanation to the tragic events on Corsica and even more so, an possible answer to the 'why's listed here above.

For your enjoyment, a small ray of light in the abyss of Noir.

Disclaimer: Guess?

************

**Wishes upon a Tree**

By: Shigan Lee

This would not be a pleasant day. 

I sighed. Not due to the weather which was utterly brilliant, a perfect cerulean sky with a few minor clouds stretched above me, a typical midsummer day on the Corsican Island. I had preferred to take the children on a picnic to the coast on a day like this instead of standing here on our front porch in this boiling weather but no, they just _had_ to choose today didn't they? The gentle breeze from the sea rustled the blue silk of my dress, a smile tugged at my lips and I made a mental note to thank Roland properly for buying it later. Honestly, he managed to find time for those extravagant shopping sprees for me no matter the circumstances, now of all times.

Despite all the positive energy that hung in the air, I couldn't help but mouthing another tired sigh when I saw the black limo steering into the drive yard of our mansion. I smiled up and walked down the stairs, giving every inch of my being into becoming the perfect hostess. The driver stepped out and opened the door, bowing in the process as a middle aged man with dark hair in suit stepped out from the car. A quick memory search made me recall that I had seen the man last year in Athens during a banquet where he had been in company with one of the Elders. So this was not a mere messenger, Soldats were serious this time.

The man bowed deeply.

  "Good afternoon Mrs Bouquet, I hope we are not arriving at a bad time." He greeted, politely as it become of a Soldat while giving me a warm smile.

_Like you had cared._ I returned the favour and grasped his hands, giving him the full honour of the Corsican greeting. "Not at all, we have been waiting mr…?"

  "Andersen will do." 

_Whatever._** "Very well, shall we go inside then mr Andersen? My husband is waiting." I gestured towards the door, still giving him my most charming smile.**

  "Certainly, we have much to discuss on a short span of time." I made a small nod in agreement. This would not be a good day indeed. The man turned towards the limo again. "Come on now the both of you, it's not polite to keep Mrs Bouquet waiting." 

A delighted squeal broke my attention to the man completely. A small, purple haired girl dressed in a white sailor blouse matched with a dark skirt literally jumped out from the car, avoiding collision with the driver with a hair as she stretched her small arms to the sky. She made a small bow to me and gave me a somewhat unsure smile, earning her a rather stern but fond look from Andersen. What a precious child, I gave her a genuine smile and a wave, making her giggle in shy delight. The girl's concentration broke shortly after that as she began to gawk at the house. I could not make out her nationality but this seemed to be her first time on Corsica judging by her reaction. 

Another small figure stepped out from the car after her. I have often thanked god for blessing me with two beautiful children like Mireille and Michel and there hasn't been a single night while I watched their sleeping faces and did not wonder if this was how angels looked like. But I doubt 'angel' would have done this girl justice. 

She was of Asiatic origin, either Chinese or Japanese judging by the tune of her skin. Her unruly mop of dark brown hair framed her delicate face perfectly, matching with a pair of soft maroon eyes that were scrutinizing me like a hawk. She was dressed in adorable boyish clothes consisting of a pair of brace pants and a simple white t-shirt that seemed somewhat mismatched with her pair of purple shoes. Most women had a soft spot for children, even if you were members of Soldats and especially if you were a mother. There is something about their carefree, innocent behaviour that makes one want to cuddle them and make sure that they were safe and happy for all eternity. I had to do some serious mind control and reminders that this was not an appropriate time to throttle down the stairs and dot on her. The one thing that served as my restrain was uncannily her presence. 

I know how to read people around me well, you could call it a bad habit of the aristocracy, but for the first time in my life I may have met my match. Another subconscious restrain of refined manners saved me from taking a step back in dread.

For the love of god, what had they done with this child? She couldn't be more than six years old, eight at top. She moved like a shadow, her movements showed inborn and refined grace that told of balance and control unmatched her age while she left the car and walked over to us. There was little of the chubby way of moving like children often possessed left in her, she walked with an aura that spoke of confidence and self-control. Her presence was of one that had been properly trained; to read everything but exposing nothing; respected and highly valued skills in the organisation which I would have awed at if it hadn't been for her age.

Oh god.

A Soldat's child, brought up by the hands of this wretched organisation. Motherly feelings and anger reared in my heart as I watched her and saw the horrid damage Soldats had caused on her childhood. 

She had truly been adorable if it hadn't been for the lacking, wrong– _absence_ of emotions that surrounded her small being. Unlike the other girl, this child showed clearly no interest in her surroundings or the people, she was observing, not out of curiosity but survival like a silent predator. 

Oh God, forgive me for allowing such crimes.

Fighting the rising tears, I watched her. She made a bow to greet me without a hint of a smile on her beautiful face and stepped up to mr Andersen's side while the man called on the other girl.

So those were the other candidates, all three of the Inner trees were now gathered on Corsican soil. Three candidates when only two could be Noir. An unsettling shiver ran down my spine when I thought of my Mireille, sometimes I truly wished that I had been born in a poor family and lived a simple commoner's life. Never knowing anything about Noir or Altena existence, what a bliss that had been, neither would I have two other children's lives hanging on my consciousness. 

Why hadn't they noticed us on that the other two candidates were coming? I frowned at the hole in our information while I led them down the hall, the two children trotted behind us silently. The girl with the purple hair was apparently a lot more excited and on the verge to bouncing while the other girl just followed with a vacant expression that was completely mismatched with her tender age.

Years spent in the art of concealment could not hinder the shiver that went through my body, caused by the sudden coldness I felt upon my heart.

********

Just as I had predicted, the meeting between Roland and Andersen had gone anything but smoothly. I could tell that neither of them was on very good terms with each other at the moment. No, that would be quite an underestimation. I knew my husband very well after many years of marriage and raising two children together. Roland seldom showed his temper towards anyone, a natural law in the webs of politics but today seemed to have been one of those rare exceptions. He had been ready to kill the man when I decided to call it a day. I could only pray that Andersen did not notice which was as likely as the sun freezing over.

Andersen's displeasure had been pretty evident, I could tell that he was not receiving the response he had expected from us, not many who possessed the knowledge dared to oppose them after all. A grim smile of satisfaction tugged my lips as I strolled down the corridor heading for the garden. Roland and I have talked about this plenty of times already; we would not budge for Soldats this time, we couldn't for Mireille's sake. The organisation was getting impatient; out of the three candidates, only Mireille had yet not started her training plus the fact that she was still in our hands even after receiving the blessing.

I don't know about the other two girls' parents. It was obvious that they had been surrendered into the hands of Soldats, by what means we did not know. 

A cool breeze, chilled by the dampness of the afternoon swept in from the open windows, carrying a pleasant scent of flowers mixed with the spicy smell of cooked dinner from the kitchen. A glance at an old fashioned clock on the wall told me that the children wouldn't be back in another few hours, I deliberately sent them away today with Marie to visit her relatives. The house wouldn't be safe as long as Soldats' man was here, who know how many of the organisation's thugs he had brought along into town? No, the children were safer on the northern coast today.

We had, by all means, the reason to suspect an assault from Soldats as an answer to the refusal. Altena must be fuming in a mild rage right now for the unexpected delay in her plans. That one meeting we ever had was quite enough to convince me in this matter. The members of Soldats were widely spread and many, ideology and belief varied like heaven to hell but never did I know that the society I was birthed into held such a scary individual. I do not know her story but her eyes spoke clearly beyond her serene expression, having the smell of carnage and death hanging thickly around her being despite being known as The Kind Mother.

What kind of mother would I be if I surrendered Mireille to her? My precious baby girl.

No, let Soldats rage this time. George and our men had been prepared for the worst of scenarios; let them know that the Bouquet family would stand their ground to defend our child. Even Michel had understood this, he had somehow in those recent years picked up that his sister was in danger. I could only smile at his young, boyish face, still to young to understand the graveness of our situation but determined to fulfil his role as the elder brother. The sweet boy had sworn to protect his sister to death in front of us with his hands over his heart. Roland nearly blew up in fatherly pride upon the sight of him, a true son of Bouquet. We had always thought him as a sensitive boy, bright but far too soft in words and manners while Mireille loved him for that, her kind brother who made flower crowns for her to wear. Little did she know that even his life may be in danger because of her.

No one would take Mireille away from us. In that case it would have to be over our dead bodies, which probably was what Altena were intending anyway. They left us no choice but fighting, and we would even if it meant to fight the world itself. I would not let my daughter fall into the hands of that woman.

I reached the gardens and shut out the depressing thoughts for the time being. The pleasant chill followed by the sunset together with fragrance of the blooming flowers chased the dark thoughts from my conscious mind and I found myself relaxing, if not enjoying the last hours of sunrays which cast the garden into a layer of hazy red. I stepped through the grass towards a groove of olive trees that some long gone ancestor had planted, admiring their thick crowns of leaves when a ball suddenly rolled out from the bushes and stopped at my feet. 

A small purple haired head shot out from the thick greens, glancing around wildly while trying to confirm the ball's whereabouts when she caught sight of me. Her mouth formed a perfect o in surprise and she seemed to consider it for a moment before she climbed out, shaking the leaves and grass out from her hair and straightened her dress before she did a small bow towards me. Her dark eyes went between the ball and me, as if she was trying to decide which deserved the most attention. I picked up the ball and handed it back to her, she accepted it with a happy squeal.

"Thank you mrs Bouquet!" She said, running back into the groove as she held the ball against her chest like if it was the most precious thing she owned. I followed her but couldn't help to wonder if she owned any toys herself. Soldats allowed them that much didn't they?

The girl had already disappeared from sight when I cleared into the glade, her happy shouts telling me that she had found some other place to discover together with the ball. It was a peaceful place to rest your mind. The lush greenness from the olives spiced the air into an almost sweet odour while a Spartan bench made out of stone decorated its small opening. I was not surprised to see that it was already occupied by another small figure, her short legs dangled a good bit above the ground as she sat there, staring off into space with the same emotionally vacant expression on her tender face.

I drew a deeper breath and soothed over the unsettling feeling that fluttered in my midsection upon her transfixing maroon eyes. My heart screamed in saddened pain at the sight, this was a child stripped of all what childhood stood for, an innocent sinner brought up by the hands of Soldats. I closed in and sat down beside her on the stone bench. She didn't seem to mind. Giving her my most reassuring smile, I looked up to admire the thick trees that surrounded us, her eyes still scrutinizing me with the same blank expression.

"It's a nice place for hide and seek isn't it?" I tipped my head and glanced at her, revealed to see that her eyes had softened a bit upon hearing my words. Her face remained indifferent as she turned away, joining me in my sudden fascination of olive trees. I continued, positive that I had her attention now. "Old olive trees are the best for playing it, thick enough to hide behind yet no roots to trip you. It's a good tree to sneak around don't you think?"

The girl merely stared at the trees, not giving any indications on that she had heard me while she dangled her short legs, kicking off her shoes in the motion. I felt a fond tug when I saw the small trait of childishness she failed to restrain. Small places like this in nature seemed to have that particular effect on children. The urge to walk barefooted was indeed a strong one. Soldats may be darkness itself but even the smallest light could illuminate its coldness, easily so.

"Have you ever climbed one?" She shot me a quick glance, still not responding but now looking at the lower branches with a bit of increased interest. Motherly joy seized my heart as I watched her react to my words; the signs were few, almost non-existent and confused but they were _there. She continued to stare at the rich olive trees, examining every inch with great concentration; her face still showed nothing while I noticed a small flicker in her eyes; something that reminded me slightly of confusion mixed with what could be taken for longing. _

Maybe they hadn't stolen everything from her yet. I tightened my fists in profound hope. Maybe it wasn't too late to repair some of the damage caused. A small voice in the back of my head screamed at me, telling me that what I was doing was foolishness. True, not was I only defying Soldats but also messing with one of their most prioritized projects. 

I shook my head in distaste, angry at my own thoughts. What had I just called her? A project? Shame sent a blush to my chins and I stood up. Letting my feelings steer, I walked up to one of the trees and rested my hand against its rough trunk while letting the tumbling emotions set.

I didn't notice that she had moved until she was already beside me. No surprise this time at my failure to detect her, as expected from one who was being trained for Noir. She never raised her gaze, still refusing to look at me but strangely, her presence had a calming effect as we stood there. I couldn't be sure of what had triggered her to move but maybe, unlikely but just maybe, she detected my distress through some subconscious intuition that children often possessed. I couldn't tell, not with this child whose enigmatic yet cold behaviour sent ripples through my motherly instincts like an unpredicted storm, dangerous yet inviting. 

She gave me a quick glance as she closed her small hands into fist in a last sign of uncertainty, confusion was now clearly written in her face. Pity welled in me when I watched Soldats' obvious mistake in their arrogant ignorance. I didn't dare to guess what kind of horrible training they had put her through in her few years but in all their grandiose webs of plans, they had forgotten the most vital thing possible.

A child remains a child, nothing more or less. To claim or try otherwise was to walk against the tides of nature. That would undoubtedly be their destruction despite all that terrifying power. Did they still not understand that ideology only can be made reality while coped with human nature? Sin may indeed be the truth of humanity but why should that prevent us from reaching for light? Why indeed restrain the innocence of a child whose nature is to play? Altena you fool. 

I was abruptly interrupted in my chain of thoughts when the small figure beside me suddenly shot upwards in a quick-paced climb. Her small body stretched in smooth yet primal moves as she made her way up the uneven surface of the thick trunk, putting every motion of her body into a flexible chain of movements that carried her towards the top. I could only watch her move in awe as she disappeared into the thick crown of leaves. My amazement at her skill was however soon replaced with concern for her safety as I could barely make out her form among the branches. Sounds of rustling leaves and cracking twigs told me of her progress upwards. I noticed absentmindedly that I was holding my breath when I caught a glimpse of her jumping between two branches in a leap that would make someone twice her age green in envy. 

A jolt of happiness tugged my heart at the sight, something very similar to what I felt while watching Mireille and Michel nested in my chest as I watched her climb. Her movements were still unnaturally catlike and sharp but there was clearly a difference. It could have been the way she jumped or the unnecessary wide swings that gave her away but there was no doubt. She was moving freely without any restraints, in a way she decided and enjoyed with no need of concealment or masks. 

She was playing.

By the sounds of it, it seemed like if she was trying to catch up with everything she had missed out on those recent years. Nothing in the world could have held back the smile I had plastered on my face right now, I had been right, it wasn't too late. I don't know how long we would be given time but I intended to try my best. Someone had to repair the damage caused by those old men and that cursed Altena.

I found myself laughing my first true laughter in a long time as I watched her, a sound of genuine joy that was freed from all my daily worries. She stopped on a thick branch in the middle and looked down at me. My laughter had obviously caught her off guard. She gave me a look of puzzlement mixed with a great deal of excitement. The confusion still lingered as she opened her mouth, only to shut it again immediately to stop whatever words that threatened to spill out. I gave her a small nod in silent confirmation, wanting her to know that it was ok.

The wonder that was in her eyes was truly touching. She was slowly making her way down again, now and then pausing to examine something she found on the way. This was how a child should be, a creature of curiosity and innocence; the warmth spread in me as I watched her bracing herself for a jump. 

To late did I recognize the familiar place in this particular tree that had caused the fall of countless Bouquets, literally speaking. Both Michel and Mireille had received several stitches, Roland a twisted ankle and I myself a torn dress from that particular jump. I opened my mouth to warn her but far too late. Aiming for a lower branch, she leaped off while stretching her arms forwards to lessen the upcoming impact. I caught a look of surprise before she staggered in midair, missing the next branch with barely an inch as she brushed her arms against some treacherous twigs. The thin branches snapped with a loud crack as she fell -

  …and landed in my waiting arms.

She was shaking, her breaths ragged from both the scare and excitement while clinging to my neck with her thin arms. She probably hadn't notice the hug herself. Holding her small body to me, I breathed out and patted her on the back, whispering consoling words into her ears to calm her. I pulled us apart slowly when I felt that she had settled down. She let me go with an unsure glance, seemingly relaxing when she saw my smile. I ruffled her hair in a playful way and set her down again after brushing away some leaves. Her expression was indifferent, still lacking parts of the most fundamental emotions but it was no longer vacant. Maybe I had managed to restore some of what Soldats stole from her.

She must truly be beautiful when she smiles from the bottom of her heart.

"Let's go and find your friend. I think it's bedtime for the both of you." I had barely noticed that it was almost completely dark now. She gave me a small nod and ran off, her shoes lay forgotten in the grass. I picked them up and headed back towards the house, meeting up with the both of them halfway. The purple haired girl was as lively as ever, talking non-stop to the other girl, wanting to share everything she had discovered and seen. Her friend's silence didn't seem to bother her as she eagerly showed her a flower she had found, which looked suspiciously like the ones I planted yesterday.

I held out my hand in a subconscious gesture towards the silent girl beside me as we walked. Surprising both me and her purple haired friend to an astonished gasp, she reached up and placed her small hand in mine, without even inclining that she had seen me while proceeding towards the house in utter silence.

*******************

This sure turned out to be a long day. I had just found the documents we needed for the last meeting tomorrow when the door to my study went up with an unceremonious bang. The next instant became a blur of squeals, laughter and crushing hugs as Mireille followed by Michel stormed into the room. Neither of them had removed their shoes before running through the main hall, Marie would be furious. I embraced my children with a heartily sigh as they bounced around me, craving my attention to all their daily adventures on the northern coast.

 "Mama, I caught a big fish!"

 "… there was a wild goat…!"

 "I sailed the boat!"

 "… Marie made us eat carrots again…!"

I was barely keeping up with all the stories when a red faced Marie stomped in through the door, scolding them senseless for ruining the carpet while reminding them that it was long past their bedtime. Both of them wailed like there was no tomorrow but agreed to sleep with pouting faces under Marie's hard gaze. I promised them to hear all their stories tomorrow and kissed them goodnight. Michel bolted off towards their bedrooms while Mireille remained behind, hiding something behind her back as she smoothed out her dress.

"Mama, I found a shell for you on the beach!" She beamed in excitement and placed a dark, yet pretty seashell on my table. Reaching up, she hugged me like if she hadn't seen her in years while giggling in delight.

 "Thank you darling, it's beautiful." I nuzzled her blonde hair, my precious baby girl. "Let's go to bed now, or you'll miss the good night story." 

 "Mmm, ok… oh, and I found this outside your room." She reached out her hand. I looked at it for a long time before taking the object from her with a sad smile. 

Placing the fresh twig on my table with great care, I brushed some of the leaves that seemed to have been buffed up a bit by laying in some pocket. It had probably been taken from the top of the tree judging from the angle, having three half ripe olives decorating it at the end. The twig looked so fragile while lying there, yet, it possessed the ability to grow a tree that could last hundreds of years. The brown haired girl's image flashed before my eyes.

She would grow strong. Her path would undoubtedly be difficult but she possessed the potential like this frail looking green before me. I was sure that she would find a way to overcome the hardships of Noir, somehow, and grow into fruition. I gripped Mireille's hand tightly in my own as I led her to the door, maybe there was chance to ensure Mireille's safety. The gamble seemed insane but so was this whole Noir project.

Andersen would get his answer tomorrow and it would be final, if we so had to throw that stupid watch in his face. Yes, we had no choice. Everything would be a gamble from now on and I wanted to take a chance with the girl, placing our lives as a bet. It may be Mireille's only chance.

I turned to close the door behind me. The sight of the green twig sent a warm, yet sad tremor through me. It was a simple, unpractised gesture of appreciation. The meaning behind it was not lost to me and I could imagine how uneasy it must have been for her to set the determination to actually leave it. Mireille was almost asleep in my arms now. I had better hurry since my age wouldn't save me from Marie's scolding. It had become completely dark as I hurried towards the bedchambers with my daughter in my arms, taking in the sweet smell of grass and flowers that lingered in her hair. I paused for a brief moment when I passed the guest chambers. A tear rolled down my chin uninvited as I mouthed the words, aware of that the child could not possibly hear me.

 "Thank you."

*********

**Author's notes:** Writing this piece was very much like consoling a crying child to me, strange as it seems. Through my watching of the Noir show, Kirika was with little doubt my favourite character. She managed to capture a small corner of my heart along the progress of the show with her mixed chaos of ruthlessness and kindness, and that corner grew along with the passing of each episode until its gripping conclusion in the end.

  Kirika may be what you could call a 'cool' character with her almost superhuman fighting abilities and shady past. However, what made me hooked like a carp on her characterization was, beside her superior skill in "forking", those small pieces revealed in those timewise annoying flashbacks during the last episodes. Few things in anime have inspired me like the scenes displayed between Kirika and Odette Bouquet and it seems like Odette's words obviously had their impact on our young heroine as well.

  As with finishing this story, I hope to have brought a small ray of light upon the otherwise despairing darkness surrounding the Inner Trees' pasts, my wish to feature the three children during some kind of normality took form in using the figure of Mireille's mother as my mouthpiece. Hopefully, I have also proposed a sensible alternative to 'why' Odette choose to entrust her final wish to her murderer and likewise, why the words of a target moved the young Kirika to hesitation and tears where in finality resulting in her revolt against Altena as in choosing Mireille over Chloe.

Fin

                                                                      Shigan Lee 

Disknowledge-er ^_^': I've got no idea of how real Corsican manners/greetings/behaviours are; please don't be angry if anything is wrong AND, I don't know jack about olive trees so all the related facts are my pure imagination.


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